A Lioness crouches hardly moving,
Bearly breathing; waiting, hoping,
A gazelle grazes unaware,
Moving quietly across the meadow.

The lioness tenses, muscles tight as a coiled spring,
Moving carefully making not a sound.
The hapless gazelle moves quietly closer,
Unaware of the danger lurking nearby.

With awful suddenness, the lion explodes from her hiding place.
The gazelle too late wise, bounds high into the air.
Soon it is over, the dust settles, a life has gone out,
The pale face of death again hovers near.